


The Fight

by TheEmpressAR



Category: Laurel and Hardy (Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27447043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEmpressAR/pseuds/TheEmpressAR
Summary: Was Ollie really ok with Stan's decision to give up his Uncle's money to stay with him and Laughing Gravy?
Relationships: Oliver Hardy/Stan Laurel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	The Fight

**Author's Note:**

> Don't know where this came from but I wanted some hurt/comfort.

Stan walked up to the door of the flat he shared with his partner, Ollie. They had had a fight. Sure they had plenty of fights in the past...but this was different...this was more than a disagreement. This was a really and truly, honest to goodness _fight_. In Stan’s mind, it could be the fight that ended their friendship for good...fight. That gave Stan pause. He was already worried out of his head. Out of his mind. He hadn’t gone more than a day...more than an hour...more than five minutes without Ollie in his line of sight. Without Ollie being in the same room with him. Without Ollie. And now...now he had spent almost an entire day....on his own. Stan was scared. He didn’t like this feeling. Not at all. 

For the thousandth time that day he had pondered on what he could do. What he could say. What he could try to make Ollie not be so angry at him anymore. Of course...Ollie was always disagreeable with Stan. That was just who he was. Stan had gotten used to it. Stan didn’t know how to act if Ollie was nice to him for more than one sentence to the next. Certainly, they had their good times...but that again was just Ollie’s nature...and Stan had grown accustomed to it. He didn’t want it any other way. 

Now this...this...waking up alone on the couch where he was banished to the night before. Walking up and down the streets of their town...no one by his side. No one to look to for guidance, reassurance. No one to help him up when he fell down or bumped into something. He hated this. He hated not having his friend beside him. It was cold on the couch. He would rather have slept on a bed of nails than to feel the bitter coldness of huddling up on a worn out couch without something warm to snuggle against. They had only just recently begun to curl up into one another to stave off the winter chill that had settled around them. The walls were paper thin in their one room joint and the bed with their worn out quilt and their bodies pressed together was the only source of heat during the winter. Stan sighed. He looked down at what he had bought for Ollie as a peace offering in his hands. This made no sense but not much of anything did anymore. He had only gone with what was in his heart. 

It was that blasted letter. That letter that started it all. Even after he ripped it up, he knew that letter would be the thing to come between them. He didn’t want the money. Not if it meant losing Ollie. Not if it meant losing Laughing Gravy. He wanted them both in his life. What was he going to do with money anyway? But for the days that followed, every time he looked at Ollie...he saw Ollie looking back at him questioning if he would have been better off just taking the money and leaving him. The doubt was there. He was sick of it. 

Days passed and they grew more and more distant. Ollie would look at Stan with looks he didn’t quite understand. He had become quiet. He didn’t yell at him as much as he usually did and he had taken to saying things with more hesitancy. Less confidence. Stan thought he hated him. That the song he sang to him was actually coming true. “ _When our friendship turns to hate…”_

Of course, Ollie had apologized. Of course, he felt foolish for the way he behaved. Of course, Stan forgave him, instantly. But they wouldn’t look each other in the eye anymore. That had been a week ago. 

Then last night...Stan, his nerves frayed beyond repair, not able to stand the silence in the room, not being talked to other than short one word sentences and long suffering sighs, finally snapped. 

“What is this, Ollie?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You know very well what I mean. I tore up the letter. What more do you want?”

“I have nothing to say.” 

“Well I think you’re being a big baby...there I said it.” 

Ollie stared off into space for a minute his anger boiling under his skin. 

“I’m being a baby?! I’M the baby here?! Tis and it Tisn’t HMPH!!” He got up and marched over to Stan. “Do you realize if you hadn’t tore up that check we could be out of here by now. We could have made something of ourselves? We could be anywhere but here?!” 

“OH so it’s my fault?” Stan finally started feeling heat around his neck. He remembered what Ollie had said and what the letter said...someone was standing in the way of someone else. Holding the other back, becoming the cause of each other’s deplorable condition. “I couldn’t use that check if I stayed around with you and you know it.” 

Ollie stopped speaking...his mouth hung open. He was forced to remember what the letter had said and how he came to realize that a person never saw themselves as others did. Stan couldn’t stop himself. “You just wanted the money all along...didn’t you?!”

After that more screaming and yelling happened. Each accusing the other of never really wanting to be friends in the first place and that they were each a burden to the other and a lot of crashing and banging was heard by the other tenants in the complex. Even the new landlord came up and banged on their door to tell them to knock it off. Laughing Gravy barked through it all. 

Ollie tossed Stan’s pillow and pajamas at him then. He guarded the bed and folded his arms. “‘I’d rather eat glass than have you sleep with me right now.” 

“Fine...I didn’t want to sleep with you anyway!!” Stan yelled at the top of his voice. It was full of emotion so it came out squeaky. He grabbed up his things and stalked over to the couch and turned around as another pillow hit him in the face. He frowned and scratched his head. 

“I think you better find a new place to stay tomorrow.” Ollie said with finality as he turned his back and brought the covers up over his head. His sentence cut short as he choked back on something that Stan wasn’t quite sure was anger or sadness. He just heard his words and his heart plummeted to his feet. 

“Fine…” he said softly. 

He had tried to search for a place to stay. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to live anywhere if it wasn’t with Ollie. He didn’t want to be without him. All day he was ready to run to him and throw his arms around him and beg him to forgive him and give him another chance. He tried and came up with several plans to go back to the flat and tell Ollie...knowing that each one Ollie was sure to like and follow through with. Every time he tried to go back, Ollie’s words hit him harder. 

Now his hand was on the doorknob. It was quiet inside. He peeked around the corner into the darkened room. There was a large lump huddled under covers and a slight shiver went through it as the cold air from the outside found its way through the cracks. Laughing Gravy was lying on his dog bed. He looked up as Stan walked into the room. 

Snow had begun to lightly fall again and Stan went over to the sill to pull down the window. He set the ice cream he had bought outside the sill into the collecting snow. _‘Ice cream…’_ he thought to himself. Even he thought it was silly since it must have been below 30 in the drafty room. He was only thinking that he knew Ollie liked strawberry. 

He turned back to the bed and sighed. It looked so cold. So uninviting. Usually, Ollie would be sleeping on his back, snoring softly, hogging up most of the bed and the covers. Yes, he knew that he was mostly legs and arms and was the one getting pushed out most of the time because he loved to cling to warm things. He chuckled softly at that knowing that he couldn’t help himself. Ollie was just a warm space heater and cuddly teddy bear. He’d never admit it outloud but bedtime was his favorite time of the day. 

The darkened lump that he knew was his best friend shuddered a little and Stan heard a few faint sniffs. What was this? Was he...no...he couldn’t be. How long had he been in bed, anyway? Did he get up at all? Stan had left before Ollie had woken up earlier that morning. He looked around the room. He went to the small kitchen. Nothing was disturbed. There was a plate by the sink with a half eaten sandwich on it. Half a bottle of milk was left in the icebox. Nothing else was touched. He hadn’t eaten all day. Stan hadn’t eaten anything but lunch really. He only had a dollar to his name and it had to last him the whole week. He bit his lip in sympathy. Ollie wasn’t truly happy unless he was full. He knew his friend. He knew then that he was just as unhappy as Stan was. 

He walked quietly back out into the room. He felt a change in the atmosphere. Ollie knew he was home and was listening out for him. He tried to pretend to sleep...but his breathing betrayed him. Stan shook his head and took off his hat. He hung it on the back of the kitchen door. He started undoing his tie and his button down shirt and vest. He took off his jacket and hung it on the back of the chair. He did this slowly and deliberately. He didn’t know how or who was going to start the conversation up tonight. He didn’t want to fight. He was tired. He was mostly tired of not having his reassurance that his friend loved him. A tear burned his eye. 

He looked over at Ollie again and saw him watching him from the shadows. As soon as Ollie saw him...he ducked his head back down under the covers. Pretending to have always been asleep. Stan smirked then. He got a mischievous look in his eye and he crinkled his nose. There it was.

He sauntered slowly over to the bed. Undoing the rest of his shirt and opening the button to the top of his pants. He still did everything painstakingly slow. He thought he heard a frustrated growl from under the quilt. Stan raised his eyebrows and smiled. He went over to his nightstand and pulled out his dressing gown. Slipping it over his head he toed out of his shoes kicking them off to the corner. He watched the form on the bed the entire time. It was like the ball was in Stan’s court. He knew by the way Ollie had relaxed a little and that the covers shifted as if inviting him to climb in that all Stan had to do was accept the invitation. And oh how he wanted to do just that. 

He walked with his socked feet over to his side of the bed and stood there. The room was so quiet and still...anticipating. Stan scratched the top of his head. He was still unsure if he was welcomed back and that this was what Ollie wanted of him. He went to make sure that Laughing Gravy had enough food and water in his bowl and scratched the dog behind his ears. 

“Well are you going to stop messing with that dog and come to bed?” An impatient voice broke the silence. Stan almost leapt for joy. He tried to play it cool. He looked over at Ollie who was looking at him trying to keep his face straight. He wasn’t going to smile. He wasn’t going to break but one was ever-so-slightly twitching at the corner of his mouth. Stan came back. He hadn’t left him. He was here. All was forgiven. 

“And turn out that light…” Ollie said as Stan hesitantly slid under the cool sheets. Sweet relief washed over him. He was in his bed. He was on his side. He was where he belonged. He already felt the tension leaving his body that he had carried with him the entire day and matter of fact the entire week. If only…

Ollie’s back was still to him. He knew the next thing that he would do would determine if it was really over or not. He reached up to shut off the light that was attached to the headboard above them. It was more on Ollie’s side and he knew Ollie usually was the one shutting it off. This was just another subtle tell that he wanted Stan and he wanted him close. He pulled the string that shut off the light, plunging them back into darkness...but instead of rolling over he let his hand drop and touch Ollie lightly on the shoulder. It tensed. Then relaxed. Stan was close. He felt the heat coming off of his friend’s back. He wanted to feel his back pressed tightly against his front. All he had to do was...he let out a soft, pent up sigh as he slid in between the comforter that was acting as a barrier as a wall, as a shield around his hurt friend. He broke through and instantly melded himself to Ollie’s back. 

Both men moaned at the feel of the contact of the other. Ollie pushed himself back into Stan’s embrace and Stan wrapped his legs around Ollie’s and buried himself deeper...as deep as he could into Ollie’s back, nestling his chin into the crook of Ollie’s shoulder and neck. Hands reached to grasp each other and hold them tight, interlacing and rubbing thumbs against the other. 

“Oh Babe…” Stan said kissing the back of Ollie’s neck lightly. His hand went to Ollie’s chest but really didn’t need to. They both felt the rapid thudding of their hearts pounding underneath their skin. “Don’t do this to us anymore, ok?” He whispered softly in Ollie’s ear. 

“I’m sorry, Stanny…I just…I thought you didn’t want us anymore.” 

Stan gasped and moaned again in Ollie’s ear as Ollie had inadvertently brushed against something that left no room for doubt what Stan thought about wanting him. Ollie blushed and chewed his lip. 

“Did that answer your question?” Stan could barely speak. If they didn’t kiss soon...he would explode. 

Ollie turned over. Stan whimpered at the loss of contact but allowed him to roll and reposition himself. They looked at each other in the darkness of the room and Ollie rested his forehead against Stan’s for a moment before pulling the other man closer to him and letting them wrap up like two peas in a pod, entangled in each other’s embrace. Stan snuggled into Ollie’s arms and smiled contentedly as he lay his head on Ollie’s chest. 

“Nothing will ever come between us, Stan…not money or landlords, or poverty or even each other.” Ollie’s soothing voice rumbled through his chest and Stan was lulling into slumber. He laughed at Ollie’s last statement. 

“Especially each other…” He brought Ollie’s face down and sealed that promise with a long, slow, lingering kiss that had hands instantly everywhere. The room was extra toasty that night as they both proved it to one another and Stan knew that no matter what...Ollie would ALWAYS be his and he would never leave his side. Laughing Gravy barked in confirmation and Stan smiled and vowed to burn the couch tomorrow! 


End file.
